A Crown on Your Head
by StarksofWinterfell
Summary: The Kingdoms of Westeros are in the rising war and everyone has to pick a side. Alliance between House Stark and House Martell is formed. An alliance that has never been formed before. To seal this alliance, Mellara, the thirdborn daughter of prince Doran Martell is about to be wed to Robb Stark and become his Queen. But she will not accept her fate with her head bowed down.
1. Chapter 1

Mellara stepped into her father's solar, the guards closing the door behind her. Her father and one of the knights stopped their discussion and turned their heads to her.

"What is so important, father?" she asked him as she sat down on the chair. „The maid said you wished to see me."

Her father dismissed the knight and sat in the chair on the other side of table.

"A raven from your uncle Oberyn arrived today," her father said and then poured water into two goblets, placing one right before her.

"Well, what did he wish to tell us?" She raised her eyebrows and placed the goblet to her lips.

"As you may know, your uncle went to meet Robb Stark to discuss forming an alliance with him." He pointed to the letter. "Robb Stark has agreed."

"And what does this have to do with me?" she asked.

"Oberyn had also discussed sealing this alliance by marrying you or Arianne to Robb Stark."

"What?" was the only thing she could manage to say. There had never been a marriage between Stark or Martell in the whole of history. She stood up and began to nervously pace around the room with the goblet still in her hand.

"Let me guess: Robb Stark chose me, even when I'm the thirdborn and Arianne is the firstborn," she said. "Because if he would had chosen Arianne, I wouldn't be in here right now and we wouldn't be having this talk."

"Neither I nor Oberyn was excepting him to choose Arianne, because she is almost ten years older than him and men do not like to marry older woman," Doran said. "But you are sixteen, his age."

"And I suppose that I have no word in this."

"It is already arranged, Mella."

Overwhelmed with anger, she threw the goblet across the room. Water proceeded to pour out of the glass and the goblet fell to the floor.

"You can scream all you want. You can throw anything you want. But it will not change anything."

"You always said that I could choose my husband by myself." Her voice was trembling. "And yet now you are marrying me to a stranger."

"I wasn't expecting a war to begin. At least not right now," he said. "The Lannisters already tried to ally with us by sending us the Princess Myrcella to wed your younger brother, Trystane, but I refused. I couldn't ally with those who are responsible for the death of your aunt Elia and her children."

"So you ally with the North instead? I thought that we would stay independent kingdom. That we would not join any side at the war," she said. "Did you ally with Robb Stark because you want the Lannisters defeated, to be dead?"

"I want Tywin Lannister to pay for what he did to Elia and her children." Doran stood up and walked to her.

"You may be wedding a complete stranger, but you will grow to like him, maybe even love him. I assure you of that." He stroked her cheek. "And look at you, you are a beautiful girl-no, you are a woman grown. I've seen all boys turning their heads toward you when you walked by. Robb Stark will do the same. And remember, the Starks are honorable; he will never hurt you."

"Yes, the Starks are honorable. And will Robb Stark like when he sees clean sheets with no blood after we consummate our marriage?"

She realized her mistake too late. What she said was a complete lie. Yes, Arianne had taught her how to seduce mens, but she had never really had sex with any of them. It was always only kissing, nothing more.

"I know the sheets will not be clean, because you are still a maiden." He moved his hand to gently brush her hair back and smiled slightly. "Remember, fathers know everything about their daughters, as mothers know everything about their sons."

"When will I leave?" she asked, fully understanding that there were nothing she could do about it.

"Tonight, on a ship with a half of our army and the four eldest Sand Snakes. The other half of the army will come later," he told her. "And the maids are already packing your things."

Mellara nodded. "May I take my leave, then?"

Her father nodded and she then left his solar with a lump in her throat.

She went to her rooms, dismissing the maids, all of whom were already done with packing her things. Her _new_ things, she noticed when she moved to open the chest. There were a few of her Dornish dresses, but there were many new Northern dresses so she could better adjust to the winter awaiting her. Mellara couldn't imagine herself in them. She already knew she would feel trapped in them. She grabbed one of the North dresses, rubbing her fingers at the fabric. It was light blue in color and much heavier than the dresses she was accustomed to. Heaving out a deep sigh, she placed the dress back in the chest and pushed it as far back as it would go.

She wanted to throw away the whole chest, to lock herself in her rooms, to ran away from what was awaiting her.

_No_, she thought. _This is not you; you do not run away from things, especially not your problems. You face them._

She took a deep breath and leaved her rooms. Her steps led her to the training yard, where Nymeria and Obara stood speaking in low, whispering voices. She grabbed her spear and walked toward them.

"I expected you two to be packing your things." Mellara's voice made the two girls jump, but they quickly regained composure and turned their heads toward their cousin.

"Sarella and Tyene are already packing theirs," Nym replied. "We wanted to stay here a bit longer. Who knows when we will return?"

_You won't ever come back if Robb Stark loses the war_, Mellara thought, but immediately shook the idea from her head.

"Ready for the last sparring, little thing?" Obara asked her. The girl had started calling her cousin that a long time before.

Mellara smirked at her, nodding. She did not even think to complain about her nickname, for as much as it annoyed her, it did make sense; she and Arianne were the same height, no taller than five feet, just like their mother.

As they started sparring, Mellara become more and more distracted, thinking about how she would leave Dorne tonight to meet her betrothed. She wondered what he looked like. But try as she might, she couldn't even form half a picture in her mind.

Suddenly, she fell to the ground, a bit harshly. She felt a sharp pain in her right shoulder as she moved to stand up.

"You're distracted. You're not even trying."

Mellara said nothing, just stood up.

"You're thinking of Robb Stark, aren't you?"

At that, Nymeria chuckled. "Of course she is."

"No, I'm not," Mellara lied. "Can we just continue?"

"You had better concentrate this time," Obara warned her. "You don't want to go to your betrothed with bruises, do you?"

"It appears I will anyway." She gritted her teeth as she felt the pain in her shoulder.

"If you had been concentrating, maybe it wouldn't have happened."

"I'll leave you two alone, then," Nymeria said when they were starting to spar. "I need to go pack my things anyway."

Mellara nodded halfheartedly, barely noticing Nymeria's leaving. She didn't have much time to pay attention at that moment to anything but her fight, and as soon as Nymeria was out of sight, she narrowly dodged yet another blow.

Almost half an hour later the girls were still sparring, both of them drenched in sweat. Obara knocked her cousin to the floor once more.

"Do you yield?" Obara asked her as she lifted Mellara's chin with the tip of her spear, surely cutting it in the process.

"Martells do not yield," she said as she made an attempt to get up.

But Obara was faster than her. She laughed at her cousin and then helped her to her feet.

Mellara wiped the sweat from her forehead. "It's getting dark. Are you sure you don't want to go pack your things?"

"You are surely yielding now." Obara smirked. "I must have tired you."

"Yes, you did," Mellara admitted. "I should take a bath then. I should have some time. Who knows when we'll leave?"

Mellara left the training yard before Obara, taking her spear with her to her rooms. As soon as she arrived, she ordered the maids to prepare her a bath.

She sighed blissfully as she sunk into the warm water. The liquid soothed her muscles and she almost didn't notice the stings of pain from her new bruises. She thought about what Robb Stark would think about her bruises and scars. Would he ask her where she got them? Would he be surprised because he excepted his wife to be soft and gentle? _Soft and gentle_, Mellara laughed. _No, she was a warrior, and warriors are anything but soft and gentle_.

She stayed in the tub until a maid came into her rooms to tell her that she would leave Dorne to meet her betrothed in a hour.

_After an hour this place will no longer be my home_, she thought sadly as she stepped out of the tub. She tied a robe around her body before entering her room once more.

The maids were already taking away the chest with her belongings. The only thing that stayed was her favorite dress, the light blue Dornish dress one she wore whenever the most. She changed into it and then braided her hair into simple Dornish style.

A maid led her to the place where she would say her goodbyes. It was already full of people, mostly men from the army.

Mellara fist came to her father, hugging him tightly despite her anger.

As soon as her father released her from their embrace, her mother, Mellario, moved to wrap her arms around Mellara. "Come here, my little girl." The woman smiled as she opened her arms to her daughter.

"I love you, Mella," Mellario said. "We both love you so much."

"I love you both as well." Mellara's eyes filled with tears but she blinked them away. _No, I will not cry today. _

She then said her goodbyes to the four younger Sand Snakes and Trystane. The last one to say goodbye to was Arianne, her older sister, the one who would comfort her in her time of need, her best friend.

"I can't believe you are to be married," Arianne said after they were finished embracing.

"Yes, me neither," Mella admitted quietly. "I did not except to marry that soon."

"I have heard that your betrothed, Robb Stark, is very handsome," Arianne smiled, "and also honorable. He will not hurt you as some men would. And what do you know, maybe he will be the best thing that have ever happened to you."

„You are always so positive." she said. "I wish you could go with me to the North,"

"We will see each other again, I promise." Arianne moved forward to kiss her sister's forehead.

With that, all goodbyes were said, and Mellara boarded one of the ships headed to the North. Her new life was beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

_The King in the North! The King in the North!_

The words still echoed in his ears the next morning after his bannermen proclaimed him a king. The same day, the word of his father's death reached their camp. He tried to appear strong in front of his bannermen, but as soon as he was in his own tent, he broke down. In a spit of grief and anger, he ruined every thing that was in his way.

His mother entered his tent then, surely hearing the sound of shattering from within. She was calling his name, her voice weak, but he only stopped when she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Robb," she said as he turned around. Catelyn quickly embraced him and let him sob into her cloak.

"I will kill them all," he said. "They shall not go unpunished."

"My boy," his mother breathed, "you will soon have the Dornish army. The princess is on her way, together with twenty thousand spears. We have to get Arya and Sansa away from the Lannister claws first. And when we have the girls back, with the help of the Martells, we will kill them all,"

Robb pulled away from her. "I don't want to marry the Dornish princess, mother."

"You must." Catelyn stroked his cheek. "The love will come with time, I assure you. You have to marry her, my son. For the army. And for the promise."

* * *

><p>They sailed from Dorne at the end of the 298th year after Aegon's conquest and arrived at the port in Saltpans in the Riverlands at the nearing end of the first moon of the new year. Mellara felt like a ghost on the ship, too angry and too lost in her own thoughts about her fast approaching new life with her betrothed. Through the time, she tried to make a picture of him in her head, but all she could see was an ugly barbarian with cold eyes, who never smiled.<p>

Mellara still could not understand why her father had done such a thing to her - he never wanted a war, yet he was sending her to one. She even damned herself for not marrying sooner, for not marrying of her own choice while she had the chance. Even without Arianne at her side, the boys crawled to her feet. She was the daughter of the ruling prince of Dorne, a princess. She could have married Cletus, Andrey, even the ever-annoying Gerris. She could even picked someone in the Free Cities when her uncle Oberyn took her to Essos on her fourteenth nameday. Dornish nobles used to marry Essosi nobles from time to time - her own father married a Norvoshi woman, though their love had disappeared over the years.

She often wondered how it felt to be in love. She loved her family with all her heart, but she was sure that a love to family and love to someone else must feel different. But now she would never know. Now she was to marry a cold Northerner in an exchange for army, a boy she was sure she would never love, never feel anything but bitter coldness towards. She was sure he would feel the same.

Mellara found it hard to walk on the solid ground when they departed from the ship in the port. Luckily for her, there was a boy to lead her through the abandoned piles of salt to her uncle that was waiting for her.

"My beloved niece." Oberyn kissed her cheeks. "You have finally arrived,"

"Uncle." She forced a smile.

Under any other circumstances she would have been glad to see him and embrace him as tightly as she could. But now, she had to push away the urge to argue with him, yell at him, fight him. He was the one who - on Doran's orders - proposed the marriage. He'd been driven by revenge, she knew, driven by the illusion he could finally avenge the death of his sister and her children who were so grossly butchered in the Sack of King's Landing.

Mellara had always had a close bond with Oberyn, from the time she was a little child, a bond that one would thought that could never be broken. It was Oberyn who had taught her how to fight, how to overcome all her fears, how to never give up. He had made her the woman she was now, but for the first time, she felt the torns in their relationship. She feared that there were only more to come.

Oberyn greeted his four daughters and then turned to her, offering her his arm. "Shall we go?"

She held her head high as she took Oberyn's arm. Her steps became more stable and confident as she made her way. She noticed that the town still seemed to prosper, yet untouched by the war. She tried not to look on the group of men, very well aware that one of them was her intended. But her curiosity betrayed her and her eyes fixed on the group. It consisted of not more than twenty men, all the soldiers standing still with blank expressions on their faces. There were two boys standing a little farther, both looking at her expectantly. One of them was smirking and whispering something to the other, who seemed to be paying little attention to him. He nervously patted the animal next to him - a huge animal, bigger than the regular wolf it resembled. She wasn't sure if it was the animal or her betrothed that made her heart beat a little faster. Perhaps both.

"Your Grace, may I present you my beloved niece, Princess Mellara of House Nymeros Martell." Oberyn stopped before the two boys, letting go of her hand.

"You are more beautiful than I thought you to be, Your Highness," Robb said, kissing the back of her hand as a sign of courtesy. He was nothing like she'd imagined, bearing no resemblance to the cold barbarian of her thoughts. She found some kind of warmth in his piercing blue eyes.

"Mellara, may I present you His Grace, Robb of House Stark, the King in the North,"

"Your Grace," she curtsied before him. When she rose to her feet, the large animal stepped from Robb's side to sniffle at her gown. Her breath hitched. She recalled Oberyn's words - _you must overcome all your fears _- as she bent down before the animal and hesitantly stroked its fur.

"What kind of animal is this?"

"A direwolf, Your Highness," her betrothed replied. "Greywind, to me!"

Greywind turned away from her and returned to his spot beside his master.

"Like your sigil, Your Grace?" she asked. "I read about them once, but I thought that they were extinct."

"So did all of us until we found six pups in the Wolfswood. Some would call it a miracle, I think."

Oberyn quietly cleared his throat, catching Mellara's attention while she was staring at the strange wolf. Its yellow eyes watched her, promising it would not allow any harm to fall upon its master.

"Mella, may I introduce you Theon Greyjoy, ward of the late Lord Eddard Stark,"

She curtsied once again, eyes fixed on the king while his friend kissed her hand. She noticed that Robb's eyes were filled with sorrow, even when he tried to hide it. It must have been awful for him to lose his father. Mellara couldn't imagine losing hers, no matter the grudge she may have held against him.

Oberyn clapped his hands. "Now, when the introductions are over, we shall go. The time is dear and we shall waste none of it."

* * *

><p>They rode until the sun went down and camped at the inn alongside the road. Mellara's thighs had soon became sore from the saddle, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. She rode and raced all the time in Dorne, mostly with her cousins and Oberyn. She almost wanted to race now, but that was childish and would draw unwanted attention. The Brave Companions were still plundering the Riverlands and Lord Tywin was close.<p>

She woke sooner than the others the next morning and quickly dressed to her riding clothes. With a spear in her hand, she headed to the back of the inn. She hadn't had a chance to practice properly for the whole month - practicing on the ship was sloppy and it was always too dark at the camp, her mind too clouded from fatigue.

It was such a good feeling to finally being able to swing her spear again. It felt so natural, more so than the other weapons her cousins had taught her to use. Nymeria had taught her to throw knives, Sarella to shoot a bow. Tyene had tried to share some knowledge of poisons. But even with the sheathed dagger clasped around her thigh, she always preferred the spear. Not that she ever had a chance to use it. She had never taken a human's life.

"Mella, what are you doing?" It was her uncle's voice, husky from sleep.

"Practising," she said, turning to face him. "I wouldn't like to get clumsy."

"I'm sure you would never," Oberyn said. "You have it in your blood. A Martell indeed."

She smiled. "Maybe we could fight," she suggested, noticing the spear in his hand. "Just one spar - it won't take long. If I win, you will give me the answers I wanted."

"Alright - just one."

Mellara smirked and swung for him. Oberyn was quick to react, clashing his spear against hers.

"Are you happy with what you've done?" She jabbed for his belly.

"You don't understand, Mella." He blocked her spear and slashed at her unprotected feet. He raised his spear and the woods of spears met. Oberyn left her a free space on his chest, so that was where she striked.

"I will tell you everything at Riverrun," he promised, dodging the blow.

She twirled her spear in the air and made a move for his groin. Their spears clashed once again.

"You'll tell me when I defeat you."

"Oh, you believe so?" He circled her and with a spin of his spear slashed at her arm. She moved to the side so the weapon hit only the wind.

"I do." She jabbed her spear at all the parts of the body she could, her movements becoming more aggressive. Oberyn faced her blows, blocking almost all of them. Mellara rarely ever won a match against Oberyn.

"You fight recklessly," her uncle noted. "That will get you killed."

Mellara received a few scratches on the parts of her body that were bare, while she was sure she made a bruise on Oberyn's back where she hit him with the wood of the spear when he was turning around.

She jabbed her spear at his abdomen and Oberyn in the same time slashed his at her chest. He was faster, she wasn't. He hit, she didn't. She stumbled backwards, losing her balance and landing hard on her butt. She hissed and was about to rise to her feet, when the tip of Oberyn's spear met the skin under her chin.

"Do you yield?"

"Yield?" She laughed. "Martells do not yield,"

With those words and with all the strength she could muster in her, she kicked her feet at Oberyn's, sending him to the ground with a thud. The spear scratched her skin as Oberyn moved and when she touched the spot, she felt a hot liquid on her fingers. _Just a little scratch_, _one of many_, she told herself as she stood up. She pointed her spear under Oberyn's chin just as he did a few moments earlier.

"Do you want to tell me now?"

Oberyn was angry, she could see it in his black eyes. Angry that she tricked him like this. _We are snakes, the tricks are ours_, she thought.

Oberyn tightly gripped the wood of her spear and tossed it away from her hand, sending it to the ground. He got to his feet.

"You were promised, Mellara!"

For a few moments, she was paralysed. When she came to herself and before Oberyn could even register what was happening, she slapped him hard across the cheek, scratching his skin with her nails.

"Promised?! To a Stark?! Why was I never told of it?!" she screamed at him. "Gods, this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!"

"It was better for you if you didn't know," Oberyn said, rubbing his cheek.

"I- I don't understand." The feelings were floating in her: anger, confusion, frustration. "All my life, I have been told that I will marry for love, that I will marry the man _I_ will want. If you really wanted that for me, with this Stark boy, maybe you should have let him to be fostered at Sunspear or me at Winterfell, or at least arrange a meeting!"

"It was to happen only under the circumstances of a war," Oberyn explained. "Doran knew that with the Lannisters grasping for the Iron Throne, the war would take place sooner or later. And now, we are in a midst of one."

"Why me? Why not Arianne?"

"Arianne was-" Oberyn's words were cut by a clash of steel and the screams of men.

"Stay here," Oberyn said, stopping her when she reached for her spear. "Do as I say."

The sound of steel ringing on steel followed as Oberyn left her. Her heart was stammering hard in her chest. She gripped her spear tightly in her hand, closing her eyes, forcing her body to stay where it was and trying to calm down her stammering heart.

"Oh, look who's hiding in here." The voice forced her to open her eyes. "The lovely Dornish princess."

Someone grabbed her by her hair, causing her to drop her spear to the ground in surprise.

"Now I got you," he hissed into her ear, the stench from his mouth reaching her nostrils. She felt the cold steel on the skin of her neck.

"Do you have any idea how many men we have here?" She asked. "More than you could imagine, and every one of them willing to give up their lives to protect the princess."

"But there is no one to stop me now, is there?" She heard him chuckle. "Tywin Lannister sends his regards, you bitch."

Mellara's elbow connected with the man's nose, forcing him back. Mellara grabbed his fallen dagger, but he threw himself at her before she could make another move. She gasped as she was thrown to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. His body was right on top of her. She tried to kick him wherever she could, but he barely reacted. They both wrestled over the dagger in her hand, but it was him who got it first.

"Any last words?" he asked.

She saw a flash of something grey running towards them and in the next second, she felt as if someone pulled a great weight from her body. She heard terrible screams, the ripping of flesh. She sat down, looking to her left, seeing the man being torn to pieces by Grey Wind. The screams soon faded and the direwolf scurried to her, fresh blood on his mouth. He had just saved her life.

"Mellara!" Oberyn ran to her, closely followed by Robb. They both squatted in front of her, faces covered in blood and sweat. "Are you okay?"

"I am," she assured him.

"You are bleeding, Your Highness," Robb touched her chin.

"It's just a scratch, Your Grace," she said, turning her head away to look at the corpse. "He said that Tywin Lannister sends his regards and then almost slashed my throat. Who were those men?"

"Likely the Brave Companions," Oberyn said.

"They wanted me dead,"

"Without you, the Dornish army will not support the Northern King,"

She looked back at him. "There are more attacks to come, aren't there?"

"Yes. Yes, there are."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm not even going to try to apologize for not updating sooner. It would only be petty excuces. Honestly, I just wanted to give it story a try and see how the first chapter will fare in here. I never thought that it will get so many favoritesfollows and reviews. I thought that it would most likely get a little to no response. So, I want to thank all of you who read the first chapter! :) I really hope you enjoyed this one as well.**

**Special thanks to Emma - **_**SurprisinglyOdd **_**for being my beta.**


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